


Ruins of Glory

by AlexaJones



Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: 50s, Agent Curt Mega has depression, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anyway back to actual tagging, Canon Era, Canon-Typical Violence, Comfort/Angst, Depression, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Heavy Drinking, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, None of them are really significant but they are in there, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Owen Carvour & The Deadliest Man Alive Are Different People, Owen Carvour Has panic attacks, Owen Carvour Lives, Owen Carvour has ptsd and anxiety, Panic Attacks, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Period-Typical Homophobia, Please Don't Hate Me, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Spies & Secret Agents, Why Did I Write This?, if alcohol panic attakcs mental illnesses torture or violence are tiggers don't read this, less homophobia, most of my babies have mental illnesses, tatiana is a queen and i would marry her, this fic sounds really dark but i promise you it's not that bad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23258050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexaJones/pseuds/AlexaJones
Summary: From inside of a prison cell Owen Carvour longs for his freedom and his first love. But when he finally gets a chance at his freedom his first love is there to stop him.After killing his partner Agent Curt Mega is a wreck. After a forcefully wake up call he is ready to put down the bottle and get back into the field. But when he does old skeletons hidden in the back of his closet start to emerge and feelings long forgotten begin to arise once more.The two men must work together to become the men they once were. Working through the past and secrets held dear they work towards destroying the one thing that tore them apart, Chimera. Will they be able to trust one another before it's too late?
Relationships: Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega
Comments: 35
Kudos: 58





	1. Prologue

Owen  
Adrenaline pulsed through Owen’s veins, coursing over his entire body as the two men ran through the building. His boyfriend ran half a step ahead, gun held aloft, his ever-perfect hair still in place despite the imprisonment he had just been subjected to. Curt turned back around and glanced at him, checking he was still there and hadn’t somehow got lost in their brief 50m sprint down the hall, their eyes met and Owen felt his cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink, he didn’t mean to but just seeing Curt made butterflies fill his stomach. It wasn’t like they never saw each other but being secret agents for two different countries meant that their paths didn’t usually cross. 

Perhaps it was unwise to start a relationship with such little contact, Owen had thought that more times than he could count but the sadness he felt whenever he reached over to the other side of his bed and didn’t find Curt there when they were around one another hurt him more. So one day, in the early spring Owen had plucked up the courage to ask him. After they had finished their mission that day Owen had dragged Curt away from the hotel and into Berlin. Bright candlelit lights had guided them down the long winding path towards the city. Taking Curt’s hand he had maneuvered through the crowd with ease, making it two the restaurant within 10 minutes. They had sat down and that was when Owen had started to get nervous, he tried to small talk but Owen just kept stuttering. After what seemed like forever their food finally came making the mood a little less awkward. Then it was time for dessert, Owen gave the waiter a look signalling him to bring over the cake. It was a chocolate cake with a large white chocolate dome over the top of it, the dome was melted when a salted caramel sauce was poured over the top, Owen knew Curt loved anything chocolate so the dessert itself was not worrying him, it was the slip of paper underneath the dome that would be uncovered when the sauce was poured, that was. 

As expected, Curt was thrilled at the sight of the cake, Owen attempted to match his smile but the butterflies inside of his stomach had turned into great eagles all flying at once. Closing his eyes and blowing out a breath, Owen nodded to the waiter who then poured the salted caramel sauce over the top of Curt’s dome. He watched Curt pick up the piece of paper neatly placed atop the cake and unfolded it, Curt gasped and Owen looked up to meet his eyes, Curt’s were filled with tears and Owen felt his stomach drop, he didn’t like him back, Owen had made it all up in his head. Shaking his head, he broke the eye contact, grabbed his bag and began to stand up “Wh-wait, where are you going?” He heard Curt say, looking back at the man who he loved he noticed a smile beneath the tear-stained cheeks, “You think I don't like you back,” Curt gasped, practically reading his mind. Owen realised his face was wet, tears were falling from his eyes at a rapid rate. He slowly sat back down, looking down at his lap hiding his face. “Hey, Owen, look at me,” Curt had said, Owen looked up and met curt’s eyes, despite the tears streaming out of them, they were still the most beautiful brown eyes Owen had ever seen. “Owen, I love you too, I always have and I always will, no matter what happens,” Curt said, a watery smile spread over Owen’s face and his body started moving by itself, he stood up slightly and leaned his head into to where his boyfriend sat. Curt leaned forward as well and for a half a second he hesitated but then Curt’s lips were on his. It wasn’t perfect, nowhere near that, lips and teeth crashed against each other but it was still the most incredible thing he had ever felt. It felt like heaven and earth had collided and everything good had been drawn into that one kiss. Owen’s arms were around Curt’s hips the best they could be with the table between them. When they eventually broke apart both men were out of breath. Curt’s hands were still tangled through his dark hair. They stood holding each other for minutes, maybe hours, he could’ve stayed there forever and have been completely happy. A quiet condescending murmur broke the trance and Owen turned to see a couple giving them a dirty look from the next table over. He didn’t care, he stepped sidewards, blushing profusely as he did, he took Curt’s hands in his, he looked deep into those brown eyes once again and closed the gap.

A loud bang interrupted his thoughts and he looked up to see a gun aimed right at his chest, without thinking Owen ducked and shot the attacker letting him fall to the ground. He looked over at curt to see him doing the same. Their eyes met and he nodded. They continued through the maze of corridors until they reached a ladder, Owen got there first and began to climb, looking down he teased, “try to keep up, old boy” Curt just chuckled and shook his head. Once he reached the top of the ladder Owen held out his hand and pulled Curt up the remaining steps,

“Alright,” Curt said as he took in the balcony. Owen checked behind him to see if there were any guards nearby. “Oh, shit” Owen whipped around just in time to see Curt’s bullet pierce the man’s skin, as he fell the guard managed to slam his hand onto the emergency button. A loud alarm wailed through the building. Owen swore under his breath as a beeping started coming from Curt’s watch. 

Looking over his boyfriend’s shoulder he saw Curt answer the call and Cynthia Houston’s voice came crackling through. “Mega, where the hell are you?” She yelled, “Quit your tom-fuckery and get me those nuclear weapon blueprints immediately.” Curt rolled his eyes and started to speak but Owen cut him off, smirking he said,

“Consider it done, Cynthia. You can expect those blueprints on the double” He knew Cynthia thought highly of him and Curt knew it too and it annoyed him greatly.

“Is that Owen?” She said her tone softening, “Thank god. Someone who actually knows what the hell they’re doing,” Curt gave Owen a knowing look and laughed as she continued, “MI6 didn’t tell me you were on this mission.” Speaking into the watch once more he said 

“Well there’s a reason why it’s called the secret service, love” Glancing to his left he saw a guard aiming a gun directly at his boyfriend’s chest, “Curt behind you” He yelled, hoping Curt ducked, he did and the bullet hit the guard directly in the throat making him drop to the floor. Cynthia’s voice began transmitting again,

“Funny and focused,” She chuckled, “Listen if you ever want to leave those stuffed shirted red coats you work for-” 

“Well, I believe they call that treason, my dear,” He said cutting her off. Slightly disheartened she replied,

“Our doors are always open.” Owen began to speak but it was Curt’s turn to cut him off with a snippy

“Gotta go,” into his watch.

Looking at his boyfriend’s face Owen smirked, “Geez, are you jealous,” when Curt didn’t meet his eyes he quickly added, “You know I’d never work for the Americans.”

With a mischievous smile, Curt replied, “Oh I do know...that you couldn’t handle it.” Curt then pulled his flask of liquor out of his jacket pocket and went to take a swig,

“Oh, Curt, no, not until we’re out of here,” Owen said as he watched Curt drink it anyway. As Owen turned away Curt began to speak again, 

“Not until the job’s done,” mimicking Owen’s posh British accent and shoving the flask into Owen’s hands. Rolling his eyes, he took a quick drink out of it and handed it back to Curt, giving him a look they started walking through the facility once more. They separated to check each end of a particular hallway and began walking back to his partner. He heard footsteps behind him, looking over at Curt he saw a guard also approaching him from behind, Curt gave Owen a knowing look and at the same time, they launched themselves at the guards. He elbowed the guard in the stomach and then hit his head with the but of his gun, knocking the guard out cold. Walking back towards his partner he saw two guards running at them, coming from the adjacent corridor. Without thinking he lifted his gun and fired a bullet, Curt did the same. They turned away before the bullet could pierce the skin. He glanced at Curt, nodded and then they continued moving forward. 

A loud beeping from Curt’s watch interrupted them once again and Barb’s crisp voice started coming through, “Curt, do you read me,” She said, her high pitched voice sounding even higher than normal.

“Barb,” Curt replied with a smirk, Owen didn’t dislike Barb but he couldn’t understand how someone so smart could be so dense. She had been drooling over Curt for years, despite the numerous not very subtle hints Curt had given her about his sexuality, Owen had even practically told her once, after all, he was taken, he was his boyfriend.

“I….we’ve all been worried sick,” She said, Owen rolled his eyes she wasn’t even trying to hide her crush on Curt and it annoyed him so much. “What’d I tell you about turning off your tracker?” Barb continued.

“Every man deserves a little bit of privacy,” Curt replied making Owen chuckle 

“Sure, but your not a man, your property of the United States Government,” Barb replied in her squeaky voice, even though the statement was true it still made Owen want to rip her little blonde head off. It seemed to annoy Curt as well.

“Barb focus,” Curt barked, “What’s the plan?”

“Sorry, simply photograph the blueprints with the camera in your watch,” Her insufferable voice said, “and they will broadcast to my location a few miles away.” Owen began making his way down a flight of stairs Curt in tow. 

“That sound’s boring,” Curt replied head tilted towards the watch. Stopping at one of the platforms on the way down he continued, “Don’t you have some kind of cool gizmo I can use instead?”

“Fine. Are you wearing the brown shoes I gave you?” Barb said sounding annoyed

Without looking down Curt replied, “Uh, sure.”

“The left one is equipped with a rocket blaster,” She said rather merrily.

“Yassssss,” Curt responded visibly excited. Owen chuckled at his partner and looked down at Curt’s shoes and noticed they were black. Rather guiltily he looked up at his boyfriend and remarked,

“Your shoes are black, old man.”

“Ah, shit no go on the shoes, barb,” Curt said looking disappointed. Regaining his sauve stature he continued, “They didn’t match my outfit.”

Barb let a very clear and annoyed sigh from the other side of the watch. “Criminy!” she yelled, “well, it won’t be hard to walk you through how the watch-”

“We gotta blow this whole facility,” Curt said cutting her off.

“But the watch!” Barb exclaimed sounding exasperated.

“Barb, send me your coordinates and we’ll rendezvous in thirty,” Curt said ignoring her.

Sighing once again, Barb replied,” Jeepers, be safe agents.” Cutting off his transmission with barb, Curt mumbled something Owen couldn’t hear and dropped the banana peel he had in his hand on the floor. Giving Curt a look, Curt retorted, “What? The whole place is gonna be garbage in a few minutes, who gives a shit?” Shaking his head, Owen jogged down the rest of the stairs Curt following him. Gun held aloft, they rounded the next corner, fortunately, there were no guards there. Owen knelt and pulled the duffle bag that had been slung over his shoulder off and grabbed a few gadgets out before passing the bag to Curt who began linking up his bomb. 

“Pass me one of the chargers, love,” Owen said to Curt realising he forgot to get it out of the bag. As he did Curt said,

“What’s our record?”

“Huh?” He replied.

“Berlin, last spring. We made it out of there in, what, six minutes,” Curt continued. Just the mention of berlin made the butterflies in his stomach flutter.

“I don't like that look in your eyes, yes six minutes,” Owen replied a sick feeling beginning to grow in his stomach.

“Oh you love it,” Curt said subtly flirty. “Think we can do it in 5?”

Stopping for a second to think Owen responded, “Make it 4.”

“Atta boy, three it is,” Curt said walking out of earshot and back to the bomb, after a few minutes Curt yelled back to Owen,

“What’s the hold-up?”

Looking at the control panel replied, “Well if we relock the system we can limit the blast”

“We don’t have time for this” Curt said sounding frantic

He stopped moving and looked deep into Curt’s eyes, Curt was jittery, nervous even a little scared and Owen knew there wasn’t much time left but they needed to do this. “No Curt, trust me you're going to want to do this.” Nodding his head, Curt silently told him I trust you. Owen took the lead and began to walk out of the room but a guard with a gun aimed directly at his chest forced them back inside towards the wall, glancing behind him and saw a door, grabbing onto Curt’s hand he made a break towards it but two more guards emerged from behind it guns held aloft. They were forced back into the middle of the room, 5 guards surrounding them. There was a slim corridor leading back to the staircase they were on previously with a quick look at Curt they both began to sprint down it, the guards hot on their tail.

Owen could feel himself slowing, he was nowhere near as fit as he used to be but fortunately neither were the guards. They were keeping at least a meter ahead of the guards and they were almost at the stairs when Curt stumbled. It wasn’t bad and he only stopped for half a second but it was enough for the guards to surround them forcing them two submit and surrender. Owen was pushed up against Curt their hands raised above their heads. The guards were surrounding them in a perfect circle. One of them began to speak to the others in Russian but all of a sudden the building began to shake, the guards fell and Owen had to grab onto Curt just to stay stable, the building was falling apart, railings and whole levels fell around them, “Curt” Owen said trying to contain his anger,

“I lied, I set the timers for three minutes” Curt admitted hurriedly, “We gotta run”

Shaking his Owen bellowed “Oh Curt Mega you're going to be the death of me,” and began to run up the stairs, he sped forward but then felt the ground move underneath his foot. It felt like everything had been put in slow motion. Looking down Owen saw the Banana peel Curt had disregarded earlier, falling backwards he reached for the railing but couldn’t find it. He felt his foot slip back even further and his body began to free fall. He heard a strangled scream as he did. It was Curt. His boyfriend, his love, the best thing in his life, the reason for his death. It was his fault, all his fault but Owen didn’t blame him. Not at all, he loved him, why had he not told him that this morning, Curt would never forgive himself, but Owen already had. His last thought before he hit the ground was the silver engagement ring hidden in his suitcase and the reservation at the most expensive restaurant in town for two that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, thanks for reading, I hope you all liked this chapter I had a random spark of inspiration and now I have the start of a fic. This is my first fic on this platform and in this fandom. If there are any mistakes please tell me so I can fix them. I also lessened the homophobia just for this chapter because I wanted them to have their first kiss in the restaurant. I'm sorry about Barb too, I don't hate her, I just feel like Owen wouldn't like her and it worked with the story so I put it in. 
> 
> My text structure is a bit unusual, So how I'm going to set it up is similar to a musical or play. There will be the first act which will be set during the events in the canon show and act two which will be the event after the end of the canon show. I will try and update at least 1 chapter a week or more. Anyway, I hope you liked this first chapter and if you have any feedback or comments or anything please comment it. Thanks for reading guys :)


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the anniversary of Owen's death, Curt needs an escape. He decides to get wasted. Cynthia Houston has other ideas.
> 
> (I never actually say the words alcohol or liquor or anything but it's heavily implied and there is a lot of swearing involved courtesy of 1 Cynthia Houston, anyway, Enjoy :))

Curt  
His head spun, well it always did but even more so then. The bar was open all day but there were only a few people in it. ‘I guess other people don’t start until after 5’ he thought and chuckled at his own joke. He brought the bottle up to his lips and poured the contents down his throat, the liquid burning it as it went down. He used it as a distraction and he needed a distraction today more than ever, it had been 4 long years. 4 long years since he lost Owen. He’d needed a place to escape and getting wasted seemed like the next best option. The bar was small but had some of the best drinks in the whole state so it was worth the half an hour drive to get there. It sat on the outskirts of New York where the skyscrapers began to get small and the suburban houses began to get more common. The interior of the bar was cheap and shabby with garish red wallpaper along the length of the walls. The bar itself was made out of some cheap wood that had been painted a dark brown, one lone worker stood behind it wiping up glasses. Curt sat in a booth right in the back corner. It too was red however it was more fierce than the walls, the tables were made out of the same tacky wood as the bar. 

Curt put the bottle to his lips once more but nothing came out. Grumbling under his breath he signalled for the bartender to pour him another drink. Instead of doing what Curt had said the bartender shook his head and said in a surprisingly strong Boston accent, “I’m sorry sir, I am not permitted to serve you any more drinks, you have reached the limit served here,”

“That’s the most bullsh-” he began but was cut off by a woman who had just walked into the bar

“Would you shut up,” she said to him and then murmured something to the bartender. The bartender got to work straight away pouring the drink. He handed them to her and she came and joined him at the booth. “Here,” The mystery woman said passing him a drink, “you can quit your whining, you sounded like a fuckin baby,”

“Hello to you too,” Curt said grumpily, however still accepting the drink. The woman was small, around 5 feet tall with a pair of black-rimmed sunglasses perched on the top of her nose. Her platinum blonde hair fell just below her shoulders in a neat bob. She had a black tailored shirt tucked into a black and white spotted dress. She looked far too formal for this establishment but she had bought him a drink so Curt didn’t care.

Curt brought the drink up to his nose, old habits die hard is what he told himself. It smelt a little too sweet compared to his normal drinks but then again it probably wasn’t his normal drink. He nodded to the woman and tipped his head back. She just sat and watched him drain the contents of the glass. “So uh, what’s your name, lady,” Curt said, trying to figure out where he knew her from. She looked so familiar but Curt just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I’m Linda, Linda Munro, and you are?” She said eyeing him up and down. 

‘Wait, does she think I like her, I’m gay I don’t like her’ he thought to himself.

“Yeah, dimwit I know that. Do you think I’m flirting with you? That’s a bit fucking sad,” The woman, Linda said. Curt realised he had spoken out loud. His head was starting to spin even more now. It was annoying him, he knew he recognised the smell of the drink and Linda but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out where from, and also how did she of all people know he was gay? “Oh, Curt, what happened to you,” She said and he looked up, she was looking at him like he was a kicked puppy, that look was so familiar. 

“How do you know my name,” Curt blurted out, processing what she had just said.

“You don’t recognise me, Wow, you are not the spy you once were, are you,” Linda said condescendingly. Spy. that’s it, the smell, it was ketamine, they made them all take every poison and drug for training at the academy so they know how to detect them on a mission. Curt was starting to feel weary. ‘Ketamine’ he racked his brain but he wasn’t thinking clearly. Finally, he remembered, ‘ketamine is a drug that if mixed with alcohol can put the user in a coma or kill them.’ realising what that meant he gasped and leapt forward,

“You poisoned me,”

“Yeah, well I’ve been poisoning myself a bit each day since 1939, grow up,” She said, pulling off her sunglasses. Right before he slipped away into darkness a realisation dawned on him, he knew where he’d seen that woman before. It was Cynthia Houston.

***

Cynthia  
The bartender looked over, as Curt’s head hit the table, making a loud bang. “He’s had a little too many is all,” Cynthia explained to the sceptical looking bartender. She stood and walked over to Curt. Cynthia slung his arm around her shoulder and grabbed under his arm and began hauling him out of the shop. He was heavy but Cynthia was strong so it kind of evened out. Stepping out of the dark musty shop she took a deep breath in. It wasn’t the clean crisp air of Oregon but it was still better than being inside of hell hole. Looking at the man she was holding in her arms she sighed. He had grown a disgusting beard, it was matted and looked badly kept. His once strong fit body now held no form and his hair itself was long and messy. She pulled the door of her car open and shoved him inside unceremoniously. Walking around the car she got into the driver’s seat and sped off.

Curt wouldn’t have done it on purpose but the bar was the closest one in the whole city to this city’s compound so it only took Cynthia 15 minutes to get there. Once she arrived she stepped out of the car and yelled to the young man standing out the front of the facility, “Hey you, get your ass over here and take this man up to one of the rooms.” 

“That’s not what I do-” the man started but Cynthia cut him off 

“If you want your job, it’s what you do now,” She said as she flashed him her identification card. Realising who he was talking to the man rushed forward mumbling his apologies and started pulling Curt out of the car. Rolling her eyes Cynthia walked towards the facility.

Running her hands down the length of her normal skirt Cynthia sighed and smiled, it was far more comfortable than the one she had had on earlier. The itchy blonde wig was off her head after far too long. She began to make her way down the hall and stopped at the door labelled 128, nodding to the man standing out the front she opened the door. She sat down in the chair in the far corner of the room and lit a cigarette. Curt lay in the middle of the room on a white bed. His head drooped down onto his chest, eyes closed. He was a wreck. It hurt Cynthia so much to see curt looking like this. She had always considered Curt to be a son to her. Sure, he was a fairly reckless, alcoholic son but she still loved him. She’d known about him and Owen too, they hadn’t known it but she walked in on them making out in a supply closet only a few weeks before Owen died. It had shocked her at first but seeing Curt being pushed up against a wall by anyone would’ve done it too. She didn’t tell anyone, it would be a secret she would take to the grave. She had never had a child but from the moment she had first seen Curt, Cynthia had felt the motherly bond so many people spoke of. It had broken her heart when she walked into the bar to see Curt about to drunkenly attack the bartender for cutting off his supply of drinks. She didn’t want to have to deceive him but it was the only way to get him to come back. He belonged here but after Owen, it must’ve hurt too much. Cynthia tapped her cigarette against the edge of the holder and watched little embers fly off the end, Sighing she stood and walked to the door, she told the man at the door to signal for her when he was about to wake up and without waiting for an answer walked down the hall.

***

Curt  
The light was too bright, far too bright. He blinked again and he began to see clearer. That’s when the memories came flooding back to him. He jumped up, hoping to find an exit but instead being met by Cynthia Houston. She was sitting calmly in the chair opposite the bed he was in, “ You bitch, where the hell am I,” He choked out staring viciously at Cynthia. If the comment hurt her she didn’t show it. She stood and walked over to where Curt lay, she had a fire burning in her eyes, Curt immediately regretted what he had said. 

“No, Curt, what the hell happened to you. You are an absolute wreck. I get it your partner died but would Owen have wanted you to get hospitalised multiple times due to alcohol poisoning. If the answer is yes then that man was bullshit and you shouldn’t have wasted a single day on him.” when Curt didn’t answer she said, “Well would’ve he?” He just shook his head in reply. “Exactly,” She said, toning her voice down a little she continued, “Curt, please don’t waste your life, I know it was a massive mistake and you hate yourself for it but you’ve gotta move on, I’m sorry for drugging you but it’s the only way I could get you here, please Curt, for your own sake, forgive yourself.” Curt knew she was right, but it was so hard to forget Owen sprawled bloody body on the concrete floor of the facility. It was all his fault. Seeing his inner turmoil, Cynthia said, “please Curt do one last mission, it will be like closure.” She reached out and squeezed his hand, “If not for yourself, do it for Owen,” 

‘Owen, he would want me to do this’ Curt thought. Looking deep into Cynthia’s eyes, he squeezed her hand back and said:

“For Owen’s sake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I hope you liked this, I'm not super keen on this chapter but I wanted to keep the chapters rolling out because there are actually some people reading this, so thanks for the kudos and just for reading this in general, I'm super grateful. I snuck in a few starkid references and I know Linda doesn't wear that in the show but I needed it to be era-appropriate. If you guys see any typos or anything please comment or if you have any feedback or anything. If it's not obvious I really like and appreciate getting comments, so yeah, Thanks for reading guys and I hope you liked this chapter


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen is rotting in his cell when he is offered a deal that could change his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING- Owen has a panic attack like straight away and there is torture in this chapter. Please don't read if this triggers you I don't want anything to happen to you guys, so just be careful if you are sensitive to that stuff and read this chapter.

Owen  
Owen jerked awake. He was breathing fast, too fast, the icy fingers were beginning to crawl up his throat, blocking his airway. The floor was hard and cold, awfully cold. His whole body ached, bruises from the night before were already forming and turning a deep purple. He half walked half crawled to the small rusted sink in the corner of the room. Owen began to see stars, he was feeling extremely faint, his head spinning. He turned on the tap, it gurgled unpleasantly then a discoloured uneven flow of water spurted out. He thrust his wrist under the tap, Owen let the liquid spill over his arm grounding him, his whole body shook uncontrollably. He began to breathe deeper, less shallow. The overwhelming feeling of panic began to ebb away.

In 2, 3 out 2, 3, 4, you’re not gonna die, he repeated over and over, mumbling to himself until he could feel his body begin to stop shaking. Feeling his heart slowly returning to its normal rate he moved back over to where his thin blanket lay on the floor, It was the closest he had been given to a bed. Picking it up he slung it over his shoulders and went and sat in the darkest corner of the room. The dream, well nightmare, had been so real. He couldn’t get the image out of his head. It was Curt, not him, who fell, who was found by the men and dragged back to the prison once they saw the id card in his pocket. Who was tied to the chair and tortured for days on end. Owen would try and call out, to warn him, but when he opened his mouth no sound would come and his legs were frozen in place so he was forced to watch Curt get tortured over and over again, every time Curt screamed he would look at Owen and beg for him to help, beg for him to make it stop but Owen couldn’t and it broke his heart more and more each time. It hurt when it was him but it hurt 1000 times more when it was Curt. The dream had started not long after he’d been brought to the prison and the panic attacks not long after that.

He hated the feeling of helplessness that came with panic attacks. He hated not knowing how to stop them. He tried everything, everything he could think of. Slowly he discovered how to stop the attacks but he couldn't stand the whimpering mess that they rendered him after they had passed. All he could think of was what Curt would think of him. He had tried to stay strong for Curt’s sake, Owen built his walls but if his anxiety didn’t knock them down, the men that were keeping him here would. Every day they would drag him out of his cell and try to extract information from him by any means necessary. His body was a wreck, bruised and broken. He was injected with god knows what and he was battered for hours on end. He never revealed anything however for one reason. Curt. He knew if he told anyone anything it could put Curt in danger, so he put up with the torture, day in and day out, all for a man who probably thought he was dead.

Owen had hoped and waited for Curt to come to rescue him for months before he finally admitted to himself that he wasn’t coming. He had tried to hate him for it, hate him for letting him fall and not coming after him but he couldn’t. Owen had tried so hard to believe that he did but in the end he just, well he just loved him instead. So that’s how he spent his days. An endless cycle of pain and panic. But he would endure it until his dying breath if it meant Curt was safe, and that’s what he planned to do. 

A metal tray was roughly shoved through the small slot in his cell. Slowly he stood, still shaking slightly and walked to it. There wasn’t much on there, just a piece of mouldy bread and a cup of water. He had gotten used to the mould long ago, you couldn’t be picky if there is nothing else to eat. He picked up the bread and plastic cup, they didn’t trust them with glass and walked back to where he had been sitting previously. Despite how much his stomach growled he split the bread in half, leaving half of it folded in his blanket for dinner that night. He drank half of the water but left half again for the next meal. He nibbled on the bread letting his mind wander. Unsurprisingly it immediately went to Curt. Curt and his stupid laugh and his stupid hair that weren’t really all that stupid. His shockingly kind persona and his strong muscular body. Owen longed to feel his lips on Curt’s just one more time, feel their bodies pressed against one another just once more. He knew the chance of that happening again was slim but it was all he hoped for, all he lived for. Owen looked up at the carving he had drawn on the wall and he smiled, it gave him hope.

A draught blew through his cell from the small window at the top of it, he shivered for a second and pulled the blanket tighter over his shoulders, making his knuckles turn an unsettling shade of white. Before he could stop it a loud yawn escaped from his lips, he put his hand up to his mouth to attempt to stifle it but he did not prevail. He started feeling his eyelids beginning to droop. He was exhausted, despite the sleep, he had woken from only a good 20 minutes ago. But then again, after an attack has racked his body he’s always tired, so that was probably why. It’s not like he had anything better to do so he laid his head back down on the ground and settled into a dream plagued sleep.

***  
“Get up you lazy piece of shit,” a loud man’s voice said, bringing Owen out of his slumber in a matter of seconds. Two men charged forward and roughly grabbed Owen under his arms and began dragging him out of his cell. At first, he had fought back but by now he knew not to, it all ended in more pain. 1 right, 2 lefts, left again, three more rights and there stood the door that they always dragged him inside, the first man opened it and they did just that. He was thrust into the familiar metal chair and metal clasps were put in place around his ankles, torso and wrists. They were uncomfortably tight, always leaving deep red marks around where each of the clasps was. Two of the men then left the room leaving only one man behind to guard the door. Minutes ticked by and Owen began to get restless. He started wiggling his wrist to try and get them into a more comfortable position, he was so deeply concentrated in this that he didn’t hear another man walk into the room.

“You can’t escape those,” The man whispered, deathly quiet. Looking up Owen saw who it was and began,

“No, Sir, I wasn’t trying to esc-” But he was cut off by the man.

“Now Owen, what did I tell you about talking back to me?” The man asked a hint of excitement in the phrase. Owen felt his stomach flip, he knew his mistake, he knew what was coming.

“Not to do it,” 

“Yes, I did, didn’t I,” The man said, kneeling slightly, his face just inches from Owen’s own. Owen heard the noise before he felt it, a loud clap rang around the room as the man’s fist made contact with the side of Owen’s face. His cheek stung like crazy and he began to taste blood but he made no noise, he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction this soon. Swallowing the blood in his mouth he looked back up at the man standing before him. He was tall with big, broad shoulders. His hair fell to his shoulders but he had a hood over it so it was almost missable. Shadows were cast all along his face hiding all of his features. He had been torturing Owen for four years and yet, Owen didn’t know his name or anything about him. “So, Owen, some friends of mine are very eager to see you,” the comment made Owen stop, a feeling of pure fear washed over him. “But before they come in, I just want to make sure you know that if there is any disobedience there will be dire consequences,” The man drawled almost happily. Owen nodded vigorously however he planned to take whatever punishments he was given if these men asked for any information. 

Although Owen couldn’t see his eyes, he had the feeling that the man was staring intently at him while he opened the door. Two men walked inside, one after the other. Each of them shook hands with the man and sat in the two cars that had been facing Owen. “Agent Owen Carvour of M16 it’s a pleasure to meet you,” The first man said, in a surprisingly strong Texan accent. He was wearing a fitted navy suit with a black tie tucked into it. His face showed no signs of stress or pain but it was probably due to the very obvious plastic surgery he had, had done. His blue eyes shone but Owen knew it was a hoax to make him lower his defences but there was no way he was going to do that. “My name is Mr H. Chimera,”

Chimera… Chimera. Owen knew he’d been being held captive by some great amount of evil but everything just clicked into place. Chimera was an evil organisation that M16 and just about every other agency in the world had been trying to undermine but the whole organisation, or man as it seemed, were like ghosts, no record of them anywhere, only a name that struck fear into the hearts of every agent around the world. And the very man in charge stood before him smiling like someone’s old frail grandpa. “And this is, well we just call him the deadliest man alive,” The man continued, oblivious to the multitude of thoughts going through Owen’s head. 

‘Shit,’ Owen thought. The deadliest man alive had been a myth, an urban legend throughout the spy world. Nobody knew who he was, like Mr H. Chimera there were no records of him, well except for the countless bodies he left behind. Every single body was marked with his same calling card, The letters DMA carved into the victim’s cheek. He was older than Owen would have guessed, mid-thirties maybe. He was wearing an extremely tight dark maroon-brown shirt, but Owen couldn’t tell which colour it truly was, tucked into a pair of grey pants, secured at the waist by a belt. He had a gun holster on and two guns in it that made Owen shiver at the sight of them. 

“Now you may be wondering why we are here, I have a little proposal for you.” Mr H. Chimera continued, intently staring at Owen. “As you were an M16 agent you have the right, uh, qualifications for this job and if you do choose to work with us, there will be a reward.” 

Reward. That was the one thing that got Owen listening properly. A reward, it could be anything but even if it just was a second blanket he would seriously consider it. “You may have heard of one Dr Baron von Nazi,” 

Owen had heard of him but he had made no threat to any agency, at least 4 years ago he hadn’t, but just about anything could have happened in that time. “Recently we have been keeping tabs on him and DMA here has already given you a head start, he has gone to him and suggested a strategic alliance with him. Von Nazi accepted just as we planned. He is wanting to bring back the Nazi ways, allowing him to become the new führer. We told him we would help him do just that but really we just need a plot of land where he will construct his “Nazi Castle.” When I say Nazi Castle it is not really that, in actuality, it is our most advanced base yet. From said base we will be able to undermine every person in the world, gaining all of their personal information and rendering every spy agency useless,” Mr H. Chimera finished sinisterly 

Curt felt his stomach flip again, he was going to be sick. They were going to wreck everything, and they wanted him to be a part of it. “Now, Owen, before you come to a decision you must let me finish,” He said practically reading his mind but then again Owen poker face wasn’t as good as it used to be. “You may be wondering how you, of all people, are a part of this. Well my friend, DMA here has… some other things to deal with at the moment so, naturally, we need someone to become his doppelganger and that Owen, is where you come in. You know how to fight and kill, so you're the obvious option. If you do this your reward will be your freedom.”

Freedom. His freedom. He would be free, he would get to feel the wind on his face and eat a proper meal. And he would get to see Curt again. Oh, Curt, his first and true love, they would be reunited and he would be able to see the man he loves not one more time, but as many times as he wished. He couldn’t stop the grin spreading over his face. A chuckle from across the room made him remember who was there and what he would have to do to get that. But what if he “accidentally” made a mistake and the plan was unable to go through then escape. “So my friend, are you in,”

“Tell me what I have to do” He replied, he would do it, no matter how much it hurt and make sure it fails royally and he would do it all for Curt, 

For Curt’s sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I hope you liked this chapter. It was kinda hard for me to write as I suffer from panic attacks and anxiety and it was hard to put how I felt down in words. Owen's panic attack and everything about them was based on me and how my attacks work and what I think about them, everyone who has them experiences and views them differently so if I offended you in any way I'm so sorry. In the fic when Owen is having the attack he puts his wrist under running water, It is something I do when I'm having an attack, especially at school, it grounds you because you have to focus on that instead of the panic. If you are struggling from panic attacks, anxiety or anything else please tell someone or contact an organisation. I live in Australia so here's a couple of numbers you guys could call if you need help.
> 
> 1800 650 890- headspace, I have used this number before and it really helped.  
> 1800 55 1800- Kids helpline, this is just for kids and teens really but still helpful.  
> I'm sorry for going on about mental health but I just know it sucks so much and when you feel alone it's even worse so if you're in a dark place or just need someone to talk to please call one of these numbers if you're Australian or your countries helpline.
> 
> Anyway, sorry for the big serious talk, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you see any mistakes or anything I need to fix please comment it down below. Stay safe guys :)


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Act 1 part 3 but in Curt's perspective.

Curt  
Quietly jimmying the lock on the warehouse door Curt pushed it open and slunk inside. He quickly ran through the warehouse, using the map that that jackass informant had given him. He was so obvious, anyone could have walked into the bar and seen him. Shaking his head Curt kneeled, he was where the map said the deal was and it wasn’t wrong. Through a hole in the metal, it looked like it had come from a gun, Curt could see three men standing around waiting for the bomb he guessed. 

“This don't feel right,” One of the men said loudly to the others. Nodding another one of them said,

“Yeah, wasn’t he supposed to be here by now?” While continuing to fiddle with his gun, the leader Curt assumed replied, 

“Sergio will be here… if he knows what’s good for him.” At that very moment, a man burst into the room, not caring to be discrete, and began speaking straight away, his back to the group in the centre of the room closing the door he just came out of. 

“Whoa, Ai Ai Ai Ai Ai, my guys, oh, man, it is crazy out there, the parking is like nuts and then sometimes, ya know it’s like you think you find a spot but it’s like a motorcycle’s already parked there and you’re-” He stopped as soon as he closed the door and saw the leader load his gun. He gulped, Curt almost felt sorry for him. But then he started talking again, “Sorry I’m late guys, got a lot on my plate guys, it’s hard to juggle work and life.” He held up the briefcase Curt assumed had the bomb in it and a… box full of pastries? The group didn’t look pleased but the man just kept talking regardless, “You see tonight is date night.” He set the box of pastries down on top of a broken bench to the side. “You guys can relate, right? Gotta do this thing with the wife.” Seeing the leader's annoyed expression, the man continued to explain, taking his hat off his head he continued, “I know I seem like I am a real tough guy, man,” Curt bit back a laugh as he said this because he didn’t, at all. “But I’m actually a pretty shy man. I do crime to provide for my family and no one else.” Slapping the briefcase in his hand he said, “These bombs ain’t gonna sell themselves.” Looking down at his watch he sent a message through to barb, who was waiting 3 miles away, telling her he had found the bombs.

“Somebody’s gotta do it. Am I right? Yeah. So, It might as well be me.” He began to walk behind the group and the leader started towards him. Putting his hands up the man moved away but kept talking nonetheless. “They say 'do what you're good at' and I'm good at this, but I wouldn’t do it for free.” The leader began pinching the bridge of his nose, his annoyance brewing. “This is just a job and I do it well, to provide for my family, because somebody’s gotta do it, right? Yeah!” Getting braver the man moved right next to the leader and bumped his hips with him as he said, “So, it might as well be me.” The glare the leader gave him made the man realise his mistake and he slowly backed away. Thankful for the moment of silence Curt sighed, his head in his hands but the man started speaking yet again, it took all Curt could do not to groan. “Ok, hey, I’m sorry guys, today is my wedding anniversary, I had to stop by my wife’s favourite bakery before it closed. Two dozen mantecados and polvorones. You wouldn’t even believe how much-”

“Sergio,” The leader cried finally shutting him up, “Our business” The man, Sergio, looked slightly flustered but began talking again despite that,

“Oh, yeah, of course! One bomb coming up!” He exclaimed like he was a car salesman trying to sell a car to a customer. He began walking over to the leader but stopped himself and said, “But, um… real quick, would you mind signing something for my nephew Marco, I hope you don’t mind guys. Please tell me it’s fine guys. He’d really get a kick out of this-”

“Sergio!” The leader exclaimed, his fuse becoming shorter and shorter by the minute.

“Ok, ok, It’s just- if I just told him his uncle did business with the Deadliest Man Alive… and company, he just wouldn’t believe me, you know-”

“SERGIO” The leader yelled, finally blowing his cool. He stalked up to Sergio, standing but inches from his face. “I would be honoured.” He said so quietly Curt had to strain to hear it. Then something dawned on Curt, what Sergio had said, had called the leader. He had called him… The Deadliest Man Alive. 

“Shit” Curt mumbled out loud. He had heard about this guy before. He had killed over 1000 people but there was no way to catch him, nobody knew what he looked like, well until now. A loud scream brought Curt’s attention back down to the scene below. He gasped as he saw what was happening, one of the men already lay in a pile of their own blood limp and dead and the other was being stabbed in the throat by the deadliest man alive. Blood was going everywhere as the man collapsed onto the floor dead. Sergio’s eyes had widened in fear but he was trying to hide as the deadliest man alive stood back up again, taking his knife out the body, completely unphased.

“There can be only one, love,” The Deadliest Man Alive said to the collapsed corpse on the floor. Just the word ‘love’ sent so many memories flooding back to Curt but he pushed them to the back of his mind.

“Ay Dios Mio,” Sergio muttered as the Deadliest Man Alive began cleaning the blood off his knife, “There are bad guys my man and then there are bad guys my man! Right?”

“Can’t you see,” The Deadliest Man Alive said, speaking to the room in general, “How much I enjoy this, I’d never avoid this, ‘cause buddy I’m a different breed.” He put his foot on top of the body before him and shoved it. “This is my calling, though it’s appalling, I love making people bleed.”

“I can see that,” Sergio said but The Deadliest Man just kept going, ignoring his comment. 

“They say that everybody’s gotta make a living. But I'm just happy killing. It’s so fulfilling. Some people need to die and I’m happy to help. These people ain’t gonna kill themselves.” Curt was feeling kinda sick listening to this man. “Somebody’s gotta do it.”

“Oh yeah,” Sergio mumbled.

“So, it might as well be me. They say to do what you love and I love doing this, Hell, I’d even do it for free.” The deadliest man alive continued,

“You’re sick,” Sergio said, voicing exactly what Curt had been thinking.

“This is my job and I do it,” The Deadliest Man said. He then brought his knife very close to Sergio’s neck, almost threateningly. Hearing the whimper escape Sergios' lips, Curt, once again, almost felt sorry for him. “Very, very passionately.”

Nodding and pulling his head away, Sergio said, “Okay, Okay.”

“Somebody’s gotta do it,” The Deadliest Man took the knife back away from Sergio’s throat and he let out a relieved sigh. “So, it might as well be me.” Slapping Sergio’s arm, The Deadliest Man Alive said, “Come,” and they walked over to the rusted table in the corner that the pastries were resting on. Taking a deep breath Curt knew he had to do it now or there would be no other chance. Shaking slightly he began giving himself a quiet pep talk. 

“Somebody’s gotta do it looks like that someone has to be me. You came here to do this, so do the job,” He rose from his kneeling position and cocked his gun. “Stop acting like a little pussy.” Letting out a shaky breath he slapped his own face and began to make his way towards the stairs when he saw a flash of ginger hair moving in the opposite direction. He stopped and looked around, then he saw it… or her. “Wait, what?” He said voicing his confusion. She kept walking towards the ladder and then began to climb down it. Curt mirrored her actions descending down the stairs instead. “Who's that woman?” Curt said into his watch, sending a photo to Barb and the recording. “What’s she doing?” He said once again into his watch. Below the two men were completely oblivious to what was happening above and were still dealing with the bomb.

Just as the men were shaking hands the woman made her way across the floor gun held at chest height and yelled, “Freeze,” In a surprisingly strong Russian accent. 

‘Shit, I need to get this bomb,’ Curt thought. Cynthia would kill him if the bomb fell into the hands of a Russian spy. 

“Your hands in the air,” She continued. Putting the bomb down Sergio pleaded,

“Okay, okay! I got insurance policy on the bomb. Just don’t touch those baked goods, alright?”

“That was quick,” The Deadliest Man Alive snarled.

“Shut your mouth,” The woman replied. Seeing the opportunity Curt made his way down the stairs and awkwardly said, 

“I second that motion.” Holding his gun out as well. The deadliest Man Alive turned and looked deep into his eyes. Curt could've sworn he knew those eyes from somewhere but he couldn’t quite say. When the Deadliest man first looked over Curt’s face, for a split second his face showed shocked, fear and maybe even longing but contorted into hatred so quickly that Curt could’ve imagined it. 

“You,” He spat, making a face like he’d just eaten an extremely sour lemon. Sergio also looked him up and down and gasped,

“Is that Agent Curt Mega? Wow. Jesus man! That is a mangy lady tickler!” Curt looked down at his beard, feeling slightly self-conscious, but Sergio continued, “I can’t believe this. The most famous spy in the world busting my arms deal. Hey, would you mind signing something for my-” He was cut off by The deadliest Man Alive who was still snarling at Curt.

“We don’t have time for this.” Curt’s fingers were shaking so hard that he accidentally pressed down the trigger. The Deadliest Man Alive, instead of dodging the bullets, just stepped forward calmly and moved Curt’s arm so the bullets ricocheted off the sides of the building instead.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,” Curt couldn’t help but yell. When the shots stopped firing The Deadliest Man Alive grabbed the gun harshly out of Curt’s hand and turned it back to face Curt, he pulled the trigger, hoping to make the killing blow 

“No,” Curt yelled but no bullet pierced his skin. The deadliest man realised this too and tried again but nothing came out once more. Throwing the empty gun back at Curt, The Deadliest Man made a break and ran up the stairs. Just as he reached halfway, he turned back, that same look of sorrow and longing in his eye’s once again quickly changing to hatred as he exclaimed, 

“This ain't over between you and me.” He said pointing a finger at Curt. He then continued up the stairs and out of the building.

“Hey, we're not finished here, guy,” Sergio yelled after him, a look of betrayal spreading across his face.

“Oh, but we are finished-” The woman, who Curt had almost forgotten was in the room due to her silent demeanour, began but Curt cut her off,

“Here, we are finished,” He said trying to regain a slither of his dignity. Sergio let out a disappointed sign, 

“I thought you'd be taller, ya know. It’s like-” Extremely irritated and rather embarrassed, Curt grabbed the pastry box. Sticking the nose of his gun inside, the lack of bullets inside of it forgotten by Sergio as he shrieked,

“Oh! Please you don’t gotta do it. Don’t ruin my anniversary. I’m a good guy, I'm a family man. Don’t make me go back to the bakery.” He was on his knees now, grovelling. “Ay Dios Mio!! Don’t do it. This is just a job for me. Please, you don’t gotta do it. Please! I’m begging you, have mercy.” He continued, making the sign of the cross on his chest. After thinking for a bit Curt threw him the box of pastries. Looking relieved Sergio said as he ran out the door, “Wow, you guys are great. Have a good one, alright?” The woman began walking towards the briefcase reaching to grab the handle. Realising this, Curt walked forward and did the same. They reached it at the same time both of them taking hold of it. Looking at her Curt said, as he gave the briefcase a tug,

“Well, this has been fun, but I better be off now.” However instead of letting go the Woman tugged it back in her direction and said,

“You are mistaken. I will be the one getting off,”

“Hahahahahaha.” He Laughed forcibly, pulling the briefcase back towards himself and continued with a straight face, “Quit playing around.” Getting very close to his face, she tugged the briefcase back once more and replied,

“This isn’t a game to me.” He was beginning to become desperate.

“Listen to me, if I don’t get this bomb back to my superiors I’m gonna look a damn fool.” Tugging it he continued, “So help a guy out, eh?” She put both of her hands on the briefcase and whispered in his ear,

“Oh, but sweetheart,” Her Russian accent extremely heavy, “You already look like a fool.” And then her knee was between his legs, she brought it up with surprising force. Tears pricked his eyes as a searing pain went through his body. 

“Argh, Jeez, okay, yep,” He groaned letting go of the briefcase. She ran out of the room, briefcase in hand as he fell to the floor kneeling against a chair. He looked at the card he had grabbed out of her pocket. “But, I got this,” He said holding it up, he read out loud what it said, “Richmans Casino, Monte Carlo, Damn you still got it Mega,” He said trying to convince himself what he said was actually true. Slipping the card into his pocket he limped out of the room and back to his car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I hope you all liked this chapter and are enjoying this fic. I don't really like this chapter but I'm trying to get through them quickly so I can get to the parts I'm really excited for you guys to read and for me to write. Also, may I add, I love Sergio so much, he's my Lil baby and I liked the excuse to watch the scene with him in it again ;). I've been stuck at home due to COVID19 and it is driving me crazy, how are you guys going with it? Anyway, as always if you see any mistakes please tell me so I can fix them, I started and finished writing this chapter in a day so I haven't checked over it as thoroughly as normal but oh well. If you have any opinions or anything at all really please, please, please, comment it, I love hearing from you guys :). Thank you so uch for reading and until next time. Stay safe guys <3
> 
> (Translation- Ay Dios Mio = Oh My God/Oh Lord)


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen's POV of the last chapter and the events that unfold after.

Owen  
“This ain’t over between me and you!” He said begging his voice not to crack. The accent was hard enough to keep up on its own without having this many emotions flooding his body. He turned and ran up the remaining stairs. As soon as his back was to the people below tears began to prick his eyes. Pulling the door open he felt the cool breeze blowing against his body. This wasn’t how it was meant to happen. He was meant to do a simple operation. Curt wasn’t meant to be involved.

Curt, oh how he missed him.

The look of hatred Curt had looked at him with had hurt more than any bullet could ever. He had looked at him as though there was nothing he despised more on this planet than him. He slammed the door behind him and then finally let all of his emotions out. His back to the door, he slouched back, using it to keep him steady and sunk to the ground. Sobs racked his body, this was different to normal, usually, it was panic but this, this was just sadness, pure untainted sadness. Owen ripped the mask off his face letting the tears fall more naturally. He pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them essentially creating a barrier from him and the rest of the world. He hadn’t tried to shoot Curt but if Curt ever found out it was him behind the mask he would think that he did, he would think that Owen didn’t know the gun was empty. Looking down, through tears he began to study his hands, anything to distract him from reality. They were dry and cracked, his once smooth skin now beyond repair. Turning his hands over as a small shriek left his lips. There was blood in between his nails. Human blood. From a person. It’s not that he hadn’t killed people before and this person had deserved it but still. The sight of it just made the situation a whole lot more real. A fresh series of sobs shook his body, he didn’t care if he looked pathetic. He just sat there and sobbed, letting the world fall away around him.

Eventually, after god knows how long, a white van pulled up next to him. Looking up Owen saw Mr H. Chimera in the passenger seat, he looked furious. A feeling of fear spread from his stomach. Mr H. Chimera threw the door open, with surprising force considering his age. Owen jumped to his feet, wiped his eyes and watched Mr H. Chimera march towards him. “What the fuck was that, you piece of shit?” He said, their foreheads almost touching. “Well,” he yelled, spit landing on Owen’s face. This man was completely different from the one he had met in the prison.

“I won’t do it anymore,” Owen said without thinking, regretting it almost instantly. Stepping back a little Mr H. Chimera plastering on a face of calm he said,

“And why is that?”

“This isn’t the deal, he wasn’t meant to be here, Curt Mega wasn’t meant to be here. If he's in it I’m not doing,” He replied. Mr H. Chimera glared at him,

“Your afraid is that it because that’s bullshit” 

“No, sir.” He said sniffing slightly trying to regain full calmness,

“Well what the fuck is it then,” Chimera said menacingly, bringing his face once again closer to Owen’s. 

“If Curt’s there I'm not, we have too much history, he will figure out who I am. I’ll do another mission just not this one,” He said stretching the truth. In all honesty, it was because he could bear to know that he could hurt or kill Curt accidentally. He would never do it on purpose even if Curt’s gun was aimed at his head he wouldn’t attack Curt, he’d let Curt fire the bullet. But in this line of work if Curt moved to the wrong spot at the wrong time a bullet could hit him instead of someone else and Owen wasn’t going to chance it. 

“History,” Chimera mumbled, Owen prayed that his feeble reasoning was enough to fool Mr H. Chimera. After thinking deeply for a few seconds Chimera’s eyes lit up then he turned back to Owen intimidatingly. “I’ve been nothing but generous with you Agent Owen Carvour,” He spat rather robotically. “And this, this is how you thank me,” Becoming quieter with each word he continued, “I will give you one more chance, Owen,” He hissed his name, whispering right in his ear now, “But you will pay for your disobedience.” As soon as these words were said Owen felt a sharp prick in the side of his neck, glancing over he saw the last of a purple liquid before it was drained into his neck from the needle that was still inside one of his veins. The world began to sway around him. The last thing he saw before the darkness consumed him completely was Chimera’s malicious grin as he watched him fall to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy belated easter guys, I hope you all enjoyed the holiday. I know this chapter is short, I just didn't know how to flesh it out anymore and I thought I may as well keep it short and sweet. Anyway, I hope you guys liked this chapter and if you saw any typos or have any feedback at all as always please comment it, I love hearing from you guys :)


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curt is at the Monte Carlo Casino with Tatiana when he starts thinking about Owen and a memory resurfaces.

Curt  
“Shall we take our leave?” Curt said through a forced smile. His cheeks were flushed a light pink from embarrassment but he ignored that and looked back at the woman. She eyed him up and down before saying,

“I thought you’d never ask,” Curt stood and began smoothing down his white jacket eager to leave the room and get the bomb and leave this hell hole however when she kept speaking he sat back down facing her. “Let us find someplace a little more, how you say, private?” As she glanced up at him through thick lashes a strange feeling began to surface in Curt’s stomach. “Where we can,” She continued bringing her hand down to the bottom of Curt’s sleeve and running a finger up it as she spoke. “How you say, build you back, how you say, up.” Although he knew she was just talking about his lost dignity that they’d been just discussing, Curt was fairly sure that wasn't what she really meant. Slightly nervous, Curt just nodded, holding his hand out for her and saying,

“After you,” They stood and walked to the door, Curt slinging an arm around the woman’s waist but was stopped by who he assumed was the manager. 

“Sir, your bill this evening comes to 25,000 francs,” He said calmly. Before he could stop himself Curt exclaimed,

“What,” Feeling uneasy he continued, “That’s I'm-that’s impossible,” God Cynthia was going to kill him once she found out he spent almost 26,000 US dollars on one mission.

“No, it’s not,” the manager said rather smugly, “those imported Budweisers you ordered were 900 francs apiece,” 

‘Shit, shit, shit, shit’ he thought, he was so dead. Bringing his hands up to his face and rubbing it he began racking his brain when an idea occurred to him. Clapping his hands he said, “Ah, can I write you a check?” the spritely manager looked at him and shrugged as he said,

“Sure, money is money.” Before muttering a quiet greeting to the woman, she smiled and waved back. 

Reaching into his pockets, Curt fished around for a check. He eventually found one, pulling a crinkled check out of his pocket. Placing it down onto one of the tables, he mumbled to himself, “Just check here, alright,” as he pulled his pen out of his pocket, scribbling his signature and filling in the other boxes. “25,000 francs,” He said deliberately loud enough so the manager could hear as a sign of his annoyance. Picking up the now filled in check Curt walked back over to the manager and handed him it and said, “Here you go,” as he did so.

“Wonderful, thank you, sir,” the manager said and turned his back to Curt and the woman, to finalize the payment. Curt looked back over to the woman smiling, hands held out as if to say I told you I’m not broke. She just looked back at him for a moment before simply smiling. The manager then piped up,

“I’m sorry sir, this bounced,” With no sincerity in his voice whatsoever. Curt snatched it back off him, truly annoyed now,

“You can charge the bill to my room,” the woman said. Trying to once again stop a pink flush of embarrassment from arising in his cheeks Curt turned, perplexed, to the woman as she continued. “That’s our next stop.” She grabbed one of his arms and began leading him towards the elevator.

“My pleasure ma’am,” the manager said bowing. A feeling of unease set in Curt’s stomach once again as he followed the woman, who’s name he still wasn’t sure of, up the wooden stairs to the elevator. She pressed the button and the doors slid open with a loud ding. The woman stepped inside immediately but Curt took a moment to breathe and calm himself completely before following her inside. The doors closed behind him and they stood shoulder to shoulder. 

“We don’t have much time.” The woman said, sending a wave of fear through Curt’s body. “I am not working for my own country.” 

‘What?’ Curt thought, why would she not work for her own country, not only would other countries be after her but her own would be too, money he guessed was the only viable option.

“The Russians do not know of my whereabouts, and if they did I suspect they’d kill me.” She continued confirming Curt’s suspicions. 

Clarifying, just in case he’d heard wrong, Curt said, “You’re not working for the Russians?” 

Looking over at her he caught an annoyed look before she replied simply, “You might call me an independent contractor,” 

‘Independent contractor, fuck, this woman must be in some deep shit with her country,’ Curt thought, keeping his poker face, however. He kept his hands firmly clasped in front of him to look professional but also to keep his hands from shaking, it wasn’t that he was scared per se, just… nervous. The woman must have done something extremely messed up for the Russians of all people to want her dead, usually, they would use anyone just to get ahead of the rest of the world, in just about any sense at all. Shifting on his feet, Curt looked up at the numbers slowly climbing on the dodgy screen as the woman continued to speak.

“You might also call me Tatiana.” The woman, Tatiana, held her hand out as she said it as though she was expecting a kiss on it, as odd as he thought it be, he still turned to face her, grasping her hand and said, “Tatiana. Nice to officially meet you under more,” he paused and pressed his lips against her soft skin, “Pleasant circumstances,” He continued. Lowering her hand they did not break eye contact, the uneasy feeling growing stronger as they did so, 

“Tell your bosses that the bomb is far away from Russian hands and will remain so,” Tatiana said curtly. A feeling of pure relief waved over him, he already knew that it wasn’t in Russian hands but her saying it out loud made it far more comforting. 

Pleased Curt added, “Great. This has been unbelievably simple to sort out.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realised something was fishy about this whole situation.

“Perhaps we can work out an arrangement that's… mutually beneficial,” Tatiana said looking over at Curt almost timidly. 

“That’ll be tough. I work alone,” or at least he did now.

Owen. Everything reminded him of his dead boyfriend. Looking up at the stars on a clear night would bring back memories of the time that Owen had taken him into the woods late at night. It had been a long day and Curt had been exhausted but Owen had insisted that they go for a walk in the nearby woods. They laced their fingers together and walked in a warm, comfortable silence through the climbing oak trees every so often glancing at one another, a giddy feeling of happiness flooding their bodies. The path had started to disappear but Owen insisted that they continued walking on a beat-up trail that was barely a path at all. Curt had protested but Owen had just laughed and started running along the path Curt desperately trying to hold onto his boyfriend’s hand. They had run through the forest for a while longer before Owen suggested they have a race, 

‘‘The last one back to the hostel gets to tell Cynthia that we lost one of the diamonds,’’ fearing the wrath of Cynthia, as any sane man should, Curt agreed. Giving the signal, Curt began racing down the mountain quickly gaining a lead on his boyfriend. Letting out a loud whoop he put his head down and continued to run focusing on missing the multiple snaking roots but when the roots began to get replaced by soft green grass he looked up and that’s when he saw it. 

In front of him stood a large clearing with a crystal clear lake at one end and the other was a candlelit picnic. It was something out of a film, a checkered picnic blanket with a wicker picnic basket on top of it. A few blankets were scattered on top of the blanket. Candles had been placed all around the clearing, the flames gently flickering in the breeze. It was one of the most beautiful sights Curt had ever seen.

Hearing his boyfriend approach him from behind he let out a breath, not in annoyance or tiredness but pure amazement. “Babe is this-did you,”

Chuckling softly Owen said into his ear, “Yeah, I did.” Curt turned around and looked his boyfriend deep in the eyes, stepping forward he slung his arms over Owen’s shoulders. They were so close that Curt could smell Owen’s vanilla soap. Breathing the scent in he closed the gap and let the world fall around him. Nibbling on Owens bottom lip, Curt silently begged for Owen to let down his defences, obliging Owen did. The kiss deepened as tongues and teeth clashed. Owen’s hands were around Curt’s waist pulling him in closer, longing for more of him. Curt tangled his hands in Owen’s gelled hair pulling through the locks. They only broke apart when Curt felt as though he was about to pass out from lack of oxygen. He chuckled softly running a hand over the back of his neck, looking down at the grassy floor. 

“Curt, love, look at me,” Owen said, using a finger to tilt Curt’s head up. Their eyes met again and Curt stared into Owen’s hazel eyes, beginning to get lost in them. “Curt Mega I love you. My love for you is greater than the number of grains of sand on every beach on this planet. I’ve loved you ever since I first met you all those years ago even though the first thing you told me was that you were going to beat the living shit out of me if I fucked the mission up,”

“Sorry,” Curt mumbled tears already beginning to prick his eyes.

“No it’s fine Curt,” Owen continued, “I know this sounds like an engagement but I don't have a ring, not yet at least, but I do have the next best thing. A promise. A promise to love and treasure you, to stay by through thick and thin, I promise no matter how much we fight or whatever gets in our way, even if it’s the rest of the world, to love you. I know I’ve said it lots but, my God, I love you, Curt,” He said Owen’s voice beginning to crack, “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me in my life, I couldn’t bear to be without you. You are my soulmate Curt and I love you.” Tears were streaming down both of their faces now. Owen gave Curt a hopeful smile and Curt let out a loud sob, not from sadness but from untainted happiness, I wide smile spread across his face and he looked at the man before him and simply said,

“I love you so much,” before connecting their lips once more.

***

They stayed there for much of the night, swimming, talking, eating but his favourite part had been when they laid down together, hands entwined, staring up at the stars. Owen pointed up at them and looked over at Curt as he said, “You see all these stars,” Curt had nodded and Owen continued saying, “I love you more than the number of all those stars. You are my stars.” Curt had moved over and brushed his lips against Owen’s and settled on top of his chest, wrapping his arm around his boyfriend and Owen wrapping his arms around Curt’s waist in turn. They woke the next day still in each other's arms.

“You know from the first time I saw you I could tell that beneath your bravado and, how you say, that dirty rat’s nest of a beard, you are indeed alone,” Tatiana said, drawing Curt back to reality whilst simultaneously managing to make him both more self conscious and sadder. He looked at her as she continued, “Like me.” Feeling rather uncomfortable Curt shifted his feet and put his hands into his pockets trying, and most likely failing, to keep his unrattled demeanour. Clearing his throat rather awkwardly Curt began speaking attempting to ease some of the almost tangible tension that was in the small elevator as it continued its ascent. 

“So where do we go from here?” Curt asked quietly.

Letting out a small laugh Tatiana continued, “You can have the bomb.” Feeling extremely relieved Curt couldn’t help but say,

“So easy!”

“I’m not that easy,” Tatiana replied 

“Yeah?”

“You’ll have to take it, by force” She responded, that uneasy feeling becoming stronger once more. Voicing his feelings Curt said,

“That didn’t go so well for me last time.” Turning to face him Tatiana said rather condescendingly,

“Come on. I want to offer a rematch, ja?” Stepping even closer and grabbing his shoulder she continued, “A second stab at it,” Turning to face her, a smirk spreading over his face, Curt replied,

“Well, if you put it that way…”

“I do. Put. It. That. Way.” She said walking around him her arm lazily around his neck, “Besides, without that horrible face fungus, what will I have to yank,” She continued as the elevator bell finally dinged. As the uneasy feeling getting extremely strong Curt said, hoping Tatiana hadn’t gotten the wrong message, 

‘We are talking about fighting, right?” Ignoring him Tatiana walked down the old motel’s hallway Curt in tow. As they reached the end of the corridor Tatiana turned back to face Curt visibly nervous and said, 

“I’m sorry.” Curt’s stomach flipped but he said regardless,

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for.”

“Yes, I do,” Tatiana quietly remarked as she reached for the door handle, pulling it and letting the deadliest man alive walk out, gun pointed directly at Curt’s head. Snidely he said,

“Hello, Mega,” before hitting the butt of his gun against Curt’s temple watching him fall to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys, I hope you like this chapter. I'm not super keen on it, but I wanted to post something so here it is. I included the memory so there would be a little bit off fluff because the next chapter is just full of angst so... 
> 
> I've never written a kiss or romantic stuff like I did today and I don't have any personal experience (Honey you're not bisexual, you're bi yourself) so I kinda just guess what it would be like and hoped for the best, hopefully, it works :)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this and as always if you see any mistakes or have any feedback please, please, please comment it :)


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning!   
> There is torture in this chapter, it is only the stuff depicted in the song torture tango and a little extra (the extra is just the behind the scenes of the song. It's just someone being bound to a chair) there is also some light lgntq+ discrimination but it's not bad just era-appropriate.
> 
> If either of these are triggers for you please please please don't read this chapter and if you do proceed with caution. Thanks, guys and enjoy this chapter

Owen

God his head hurt. Owen could already feel a bruise forming on the side of his head, from what, he couldn’t exactly remember. Owen tried to lift a hand to it but then realised both his arms were bound with rope. Opening his eyes, Owen frantically looked around, trying to make sense of whatever was going on. As he had guessed both of his arms were bound tightly to the chair, his legs in the same predicament. He had been shoved roughly onto a cold, metal chair and his torso had also been tied up pressing his back against the sharp, badly cut, metal of the chair. A feeling of dread spread over Owen's body as he realised what this must be. He glanced around the room, expecting to see the torture chamber he was usually brought since Chimera had told him ‘You will pay,’ but surprisingly he didn’t recognise the room.

This room was padded with what he recognised as soundproof walling, which was odd as these people usually liked the other prisoners to hear the screams of the tortured, using them as a warning of what will happen if they didn’t behave or, like Owen, don’t reveal information. The room didn’t reveal much else. It had nothing inside of it other than the two guards who stood next to Owen, Owen himself, the chair and the soundproofing. 

Owen tried to look around at the men, attempting to see if he knew either of them when suddenly part of the wall in front of him began to move. Owen quickly realised it was a door. The door opened up and revealed a second door this time like the cell doors they had in the normal torture cells in the prison, made up of bars of metal. Owen’s shock quickly evaporated into rage and hatred when he saw who stood behind the door. Mr H. Chimera just grinned viciously back at him, “Hello Agent Owen Carvour,” Enraged Owen yelled at him,

“What do you want for me, why the fuck am I here?” Chimera just laughed and said,

“You will see,” The cryptic answer annoyed Owen but Chimera just kept talking, “You know something you told me made me think. You said that you and Agent Curt Mega have history.”

‘Shit, shit, shit, shit,’ Owen thought, he was onto him. Well of course he was, it had been a pathetic lie.

“I’ve heard that from many people as disgusting as you are. But regardless of that I still need you for this mission, so, I was going to have them beat you senseless but then a strange turn of events occurred that work particularly well in my favour,” At this point, Owen was truly terrified, he couldn’t think of anything worse than being beaten until he was knocked out. Chimera looked pleased when he saw the look of fear on Owen’s face, “Well, I hope you learn your lesson and enjoy the show.” And with that Chimera took off down the hallway, the guards closing the door behind him. 

They stalked back over to Owen, he closed his eyes tight not wanting to see what horrible tool they had but when nothing touched his skin he cautiously opened one of his eyes. To his surprise, the two guards were standing behind him once again. Rather confused Owen began analyzing what Chimera had said. One thing was really sticking with him, Chimera had said ‘Enjoy the show’ he had no fucking clue what that meant. A loud yell caught his attention. Looking around he tried to determine where it was coming from. Another yell, coming from the…. Wall? He had thought he’d heard talking earlier from the same spot but had thought it was his mind playing tricks but perhaps not. Listening closer he realised he could make out what they were saying. 

‘...know how to get into people’s heads, Mega.” A man with a strong cockney accent said but Owen was too focused on the last word the man had said to notice this. He could feel his heart racing, It had to be wrong, Curt couldn't be there, He can’t, he’s- he’s not. Owen must've, he must've heard wrong, he had to or otherwise, his worst fear was coming true.

“But, It ain’t gonna do you no good,” The man continued. “No gettin in here, I’m a steel trap that would blow your fucking mind.” That comment made Owen stop, That’s what the deadliest Man Alive had told him when he had been training Owen to become him. And that was his accent. Shit. 

“Well,” Something dropped onto the floor making a loud thud. “You’re not gonna just slip by with your cocky demeanour this time, I will see to that. But, before I chop you up into my carry on luggage, I’m gonna torture the livin shite outta ya,” 

‘This guy is fucked up,” Owen thought. The deadliest man began speaking again, a gleeful ring to each word,

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for such a long time. And wouldn’t ya know it, you’re finally mine! If you’re hurtin’, please show it, don’t be ‘fraid to cry. And just for my enjoyment, you will suffer.” He clicked open a pair of pliers. The sound was followed by a whimper that Owen had been pleading he wouldn’t hear. His stomach dropped.

“Suffer,” Another click, another whimper.

“Suffer,” A final click and a heart-wrenching whimper after it. It was Curt, he couldn’t deny it any longer and he had to sit here and-and listen to him- No he couldn’t, that can’t happen. He needs to see him one more time, tell him he loves him one more time, get to use that goddamn engagement ring. 

“Until you die. So, sit back, relax and enjoy the show! I’ve quite the evening planned! I’ve cleared up your schedule, nowhere else to go! Trust me you’re in good hands!” Curt let out a scream that made Owen's blood curdle. He was stuck, taped to this fucking chair while his boyfriend was being god damn tortured and he just had to sit and listen to Curt’s last pleas of help and it was breaking his already damaged heart.

“I’m a master of torture, it gets me high, to show you the horror of staying alive. I’ll prod ya, and poke ya and bleed you dry! And just for my enjoyment, you will suffer.” A scream and a zap of electricity

“Suffer,” another scream.

Suffer,” A final scream that sent a wave of something Owen couldn’t describe flooding through him. He should be out there, he should be out there instead of him, he had promised him that he would stick with him through thick and thin and to always protect him. That promise seemed like it was made a million years ago and he was breaking it. 

A lump rose in his throat and tears began pricking his eyes. It was his fault, all his fault. If Owen had just left Curt alone, hadn’t asked him to be his boyfriend he would be at home with his mother, happy.

Tears streamed down his face, he let out a loud sob. 

“Uh, you sick bastard. Why don’t you just kill me already?” Owen heard Curt beg. 

“No, Curt, Baby no, please no, I can’t do this without you, you can still get out, please,” Owen screamed, he knew there was no point but Curt couldn’t die, he needed him. God, he’d lived only for him, only for the hope he’d see him again, to feel his lips against Curt’s, he couldn’t die, he just couldn’t. Owen pulled against the restraints desperate to help his boyfriend.

“Please, just kill me, kill me instead, Chimera, just don’t let him-, don’t please,” He sobbed, the last few words getting lost in his tears. 

“Can’t you see? How much I enjoy this? I’d never avoid this. ‘Cause buddy I’m a different breed.” The deadliest man said happily before a loud unnerving sound echoed, that sounded a lot like a punch, around the room. Owen choked back another sob. He pulled against the bonds once again and yelled, 

“Let him go, you bastards, I’m the one that you want not him, he’s done nothing, let him go!” He was trying to sound strong, trying to cover up the massive hole that was being etched into his heart. 

“This is my calling, though it’s appalling, I love making people bleed!” Curt let out a painful noise. Owen was so god damn close to him but he might have been in a different country. His soulmate was being tortured and he couldn’t do a single fucking thing to stop it,   
“Baby, I love you so much, please, stay, stay strong for me baby, I-I love you,” He cried hoping that somehow Curt could hear him.

“I once was a spy but I won’t be a spy again, at least I tried, tried to fight ‘til the end, but I can’t deny that I’m gonna die!” 

A secret hidden part of Owen crumbled when he heard this. He had waited for years to hear his voice again, this wasn’t how it was meant to happen, they stole it from him, stole his, his Curt away.

“Let him go, LET HIM GO,” he screamed, pure anger that he’d never felt before overcoming him. He struggled against the ropes once more pulling his arms and feet against the ropes. Curt needed to get out of here alive and he would do anything for that to happen even if that meant giving his own life, Curt had a whole life ahead of him, he needed to live it, even if it was witho- without Owen.

“Suffer, suffer, suffer, until you die!” The deadliest man alive yelled and there was an unnerving silence, then Curt began to make a noise like he was choking, gasping for air. Owen let out a scream, Curt was about to -, he couldn’t say it. 

“Suffer, suffer,” The deadliest man yelled gleefully. If he ever escaped this nightmare Owen would find that man and repay him for all of the pain he’d inflicted upon Curt or die trying.

“Surrender!” He continued, sounding annoyed.

“Never” Curt yelled, his voice a little raspy. Owen let out a loud sob, maybe Curt would get out, he was still the amazing, strong-willed man, Owen didn’t know how he’d forgotten that he was still his Curt who could beat anyone, the best spy in the game.

Owen heard The deadliest man unsheath a knife and his blood went cold, a fresh wave of tears overcoming his body. He was a fool if he didn’t know what this meant.

“Take this,” A woman with a strong Russian accent yelled and Owen heard a body thud to the ground. 

“What are you doing?” Curt screamed

“Saving you,” she yelled back.

“You expect me to trust you? Again!” 

“You don’t understand! He blackmailed me! My family! Let me help you!” The woman shouted  
“I don’t need your help, I don’t need anyone's help,” Curt roared. Owen knew he couldn’t hear him but regardless he yelled, 

“Curt, love, please, don’t be stupid, get OUT OF HERE, I need you alive, please Baby go.”

“What’s your damage man?” The woman yelled, “Come on Curt let’s get going,”

“Baby, please, please go, don’t stay here, PLEASE CURT GO!”

“Owen?” Curt said quietly. Owen let out a loud sob. It had been so long since he’d heard Curt say that. Sobs racked his body

“I love you so much, Curt!” Owen yelled before he heard a gunshot and somebody crash to the floor. 

“Curt? CURT! Oh god, no, no, no, no, no,” Owen yelled he started to pull against his restraints once more. Was that Curt, god, no this couldn’t be how it ended, it couldn’t. Curt. Owen felt like he was going to be sick. So many emotions swirled around his body at once.

“We need him out now,” Owen heard a crackling voice say through a walkie talkie.

“Okay Boss,” One of the men behind him said. Before Owen knew what was happening a heavily scented cloth was brought over his nose and mouth. 

“Curt” was the last thing he mumbled before the darkness swallowed him whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, so that was that chapter. I tried to make it angsty, I'm not rlly sure if I succeeded but regardless here y'all go. It took me soooooooooo long to write this and I apologise for that. There were two different scenarios I had to choose out of so, in the end, I decided to write them both and pick which one worked best with the story which ended up being this one :). Part of me really likes this chapter and part of me really hates it so I guess I will leave it up to you guys to decide what you think.
> 
> Also thank you for all of your support with this story, all of the comments you guys have been leaving are so so so nice and I love getting them <3
> 
> Hopefully, you guys liked this chapter and if you see any typos or ways I could make the story flow better or literally anything at all please comment it :).


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chimera reoffers Owen the deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mild homophobia, it's barely there but just be careful. Enjoy :)

Owen shivered, the ground was hard and cold against his bareback. He stared up at the rotting roof of his cell and let out a huff of air, the feeling of emptiness flooding through him once more. 

He had tried to sleep but every time he would close his eyes and drift away from the world the sounds of Curt’s screams would raid his dreams, waking him in a cold sweat. So, instead, he just lay there feeling nothing, he had cried at first but now he had no tears left to cry.

The days had ticked by, when Owen had first come he had marked it on the wall, keeping track as each day passed but now he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Curt had almost died because of him and he had been in the next room and done nothing, he could’ve, no should’ve fought harder, helped his love, but he was too weak, he wasn’t strong enough, so, he had given up hope. The best he could do now was to not reveal any information whatsoever and hope the Curt had moved onto someone who could treat him better than Owen obviously could.

Letting out a sigh, Owen turned onto his side, staring directly at the carving he had drawn in the wall. It was a simple heart, with the engraving

OC+CM

Inside of it. Owen had carved it there, after one of his first torture session where The Man had threatened to brainwash him so he only knew pain, no happiness. As soon as he had got back from that particular session he had used his spoon and marked the wall with the letters so he wouldn’t forget his love. 

But now, well, he almost wanted it all to be gone, he didn’t deserve happiness, he definitely didn’t deserve Curt. Selfishly he nearly wished for all of the happy memories to be erased so he didn’t have to keep fighting, so he could end the constant pain. 

But he couldn’t. He would always be stuck with the memories of Curt’s touch, of his lips, his stupid laugh and hair, the way he used to catch Curt staring at him when he thought Owen hadn’t noticed and how he’d secretly love it when Owen played with his hair, though he would never admit that. How Curt was so messy, constantly leaving clothes and plates lying around his flat and how he loved to steal Owen’s clothes, probably because all of his own was in heaps around the apartment.

Laughing slightly to himself, Owen recalled the time, only a month before his capture, when Owen was meant to fly back to the UK but couldn’t find his passport anywhere. He had been frantically looking for it, so much so that he hadn’t noticed the wicked smirk on Curt’s face all morning. When Owen had been staring up at the clock on the kitchen counter in dismay, watching as it struck 11:30 am, the time that the wheels of his plane had lifted off from Idlewild Airport. Curt had slunk up from behind Owen and placed one arm around his waist and his chin on Owen’s shoulder. He had leaned into the touch and sighed that was when he felt Owen shift from behind him, Curt’s hand went deep into his pocket and Curt had produced a small maroon book and placed it on the table before Owen. 

The pieces hadn’t fitted together at first but once he picked it up he realised what his boyfriend had done. Curt had noticed this realisation too and had pulled his arm away from his waist and stepped back. 

Owen spun around to see his boyfriend standing before him grinning from ear to ear.

“What! Why?” Owen had begun but Curt had just turned and sped away, giggling like a small child. Slightly bewildered Owen started to chase after him. Curt took him all over the apartment and managed to stay away from Owen for a surprisingly long amount of time. 

When Owen finally cornered him, he was laughing too. They were standing in the small lounge room facing one another, Owen leapt forward grabbing onto his boyfriend, sending them onto the orange couch. Curt had smiled up from underneath Owen and said,

“I’m sorry I hid your passport babe, but I just didn’t want you to go.” Shaking his head Owen had leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against Curt’s lips. He shifted both of them so he was on the bottom and holding Curt in his arms and whispered into his boyfriend's ear softly,

“Honestly, I didn’t want to go either, sooooo, I guess it’s lucky that my passport got misplaced then.” Curt had just chuckled, wrapping his arms around Owen tighter.

“I never want to let you go, I just wish you could stay here, with me forever,” Curt said softly into Owen's neck.

“I know, I want to, too but my bosses would kill me,” Owen replied forlornly. Curt raised his head so they were staring into each other’s eyes.

“I love you so much Owen, but I hate this,” 

“Wait, Woah, are you breaking up with me?” Owen exclaimed slightly freaking out. Curt just let out a small laugh and stroked his thumb against his boyfriend’s cheekbone. 

“Of course not baby, I’m just saying, I wish it could be different,” Letting out a sigh of relief Owen replied

“Well, although it’s not all the time, I’m here now, so…” Laughing Curt pressed his lips against Owen’s and Owen felt the world melt away. They had spent the rest of the day lazily, in each other's arms, talking about everything and nothing. It had been one of the last times Owen had been truly happy, but those days were gone, he had to let them go. He didn’t deserve Curt and he needed to move on. 

Flipping back onto his back Owen dismissed the memory and shut his eyes tightly, hoping sleep would come.

***

Owen sat leaned up against the wall, his blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders when the sound of rubber boots stomping on concrete began. Owen didn’t bother to look up when he heard the lock on his cell jangle, instead, he just said,

“What the fuck do you want?”

“No need for such language, Agent Owen Carvour, I just want to talk,” Mr H Chimera replied softly, it annoyed Owen how kind and loving he sounded when the man before him had just torn his world apart. When Owen didn’t answer he continued,

“You see Owen, you aren’t very good at keeping secrets. That cave carving you did on the wall really gave it away,” Owen didn’t need to look up to know he was talking about the love heart with his and curt’s initials etched inside of it. 

“But regardless of that, I knew you were hiding something. No man goes through the pain you did for an oath. I had assumed it was a woman but when I found out it was a man, a spy no less, I was both disgusted and overjoyed. You know, the easiest thing is to capture a spy. You’re all too reckless, too brave,” Chimera continued, saying the last words with a sarcastic tone. 

“So all I had to do was send my dear friend Tatiana, the woman who was with Mega when they came into the warehouse and there she would ‘accidentally’ slip a business card to him so he would follow her to a casino in Monte Carlo. There she would invite him up to the room with the false promise of the bomb and we would capture him. Very simple really”

“Wait. What the fuck is wrong with you,” Owen yelled finally looking up at the old man standing before him. “You fucking set me up, you-you knew Curt would be there and it would… it would wreck me. You captured him before I even mentioned wanting out of the deal, Why the fuck did you do that?!”

“Well, first of all, nothing much, just a small vendetta against the global spy network and two, yes I set you up, I need you to know that you don’t have any freedom, that I do and always will control you,” Chimera hissed grabbing onto the collar of Owen’s shirt bringing their faces close together, “and you will always be mine. I swear to fucking god, if you try anything else I will kill him, properly, I swear,” 

A sob escaped Owen’s lips and Chimera then let go of his shirt, sending him to the cold floor. Chimera tsked and turned away from Owen back out the cell door. 

Owen reached over to the spot where his blanket had been disregarded and picked it up. He buried his face in the itchy material and just sobbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SJKKDKSDJSJKHFLSLSKL WHAT'S THIS? A NEW CHAPTER FROM ME????? IT CAN'T BE  
> Hi guys, this chapter took me a whole freakin month but it is here and I hope y'all like it. I had serious writer's block and I still don't rlly like it but oh well, I kept you waiting long enough. I added in some unplanned fluff because the last chapter was so angsty so I hope you liked it :)
> 
> Also yes, chimera started a whole spy hating company because he was a whiny little piece of shit who didn't get into the academy soooooo.... yeah 
> 
> Regardless, I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter and if you have any feedback good or bad please, please, please comment it, I love hearing from you :) <3


End file.
